Other Tales
by GalactaIsBest
Summary: One brave soul saves humanity from damnation. Batarians break Council law and find a species just ripe for slavering. the Batarians learn that they've only managed to stur the hornets nest, so they beg the rest of the galaxy for aid. Yet it is the galaxy that requires all the aid they can get. (AU) (Hiatus!)
1. Other Beginings

_**An idea. A**_ _ **planned**_ _ **idea nonetheless, so I plan to continue this, thankfully. This here is the result of said planned idea. Updates plan on being weekly, but no promises. Once school ends, I'll probably update more frequently. This first bit is mostly history and original fluff, so that ya'll know about them more than often. But there probably won't be many technicalities. This is a, more or less, "replacement" of my other Mass Effect story, as I have sadly lost the plot for it. But I shall keep it up in case I am able to rekindle the spark I had for it. Or someone is open for taking it up for grabs. It's either or.**_

 _ **Uh, this will**_ _ **not**_ _ **include normal humans much, if at all. And the said humans will be naked. In the buff. Bearing their Birthday suits.**_

 _ **Why? That will be explained later.**_

 _ **Peace probably won't be a factor until much later, maybe, you never know. And this won't be a domination fic either. It's gonna be tough later on, but we'll see how it all goes.**_

 _ **Well,**_ _ **you'll**_ _ **see how it all goes.**_

 _ **Also, I'll include a "Kodeex" if anyone has any questions. You probably will. Anything more, feel free to ask via reviewing it.**_

 _ **Reviews are appreciated. Please no hateful criticism. Criticism is appreciated. Thank you, and enjoy.**_

 **Prologue - The Edge of Tomorrow**

In 2087, roughly seventeen years have passed after the discovery of the alien ruins, and more importantly, Element Zero on Mars back in 2070. One hundred and four years after its discovery first faced the void, cold of space, humanity was on the verge of extinction.

It was their own fault. Some acknowledged this. Fewer were smart enough to read the signs. Heed the danger. Cryotubes soon became their homes. Havens even. The rest were too filled with stress and fear to see the upcoming doom. Too busy fighting each other. Ripping and clawing. Begging and pleading. Death was soon to be prominent.

After reveling in the horrid effects this new, material, named Element Zero, had on them a year after encountering the ruins and the seductive element it contained within, Element Zero was deemed far too dangerous and the alien ruins were abandoned with post haste.

Element Zero seemed to cause… maddening effects on any humans near it. Hallucinations. Cravings. It did something to a human's nervous system that was the equivalent of narcotics, times a billion.

In 2109, Eezo had been successfully smuggled onto earth and synthesized into a new drug that had triple times the potency of crack, and was described as being even better than sex itself. It was called Edge. The world is too plunged into anarchy the upcoming months, as black market drug cartels and black listing mercenary's in wide quantities to suck whatever meat they needed to get more Edge. American was the first to fall thanks to a plethora of misguided and abused African American communities. Racism and hatred fueled the already raging fires of Edge. Then the drug's slaves and whores almost systematically began to head over to other countries and cities.

In 2155, most all governments were in a state of unrest, and those that weren't strong enough fell to anarchy and practically shredded its own structure of order, falling to collapse along the way. Nuclear reactors, soon left unattended, mixed with the dangerous capabilities of Eezo. Radiation and Eezo formed a sort of abomination of an element. All human life was now threatened, save for the rapidly decaying addicts and mutants. But they too, soon risked death, and perished.

With ionizing radiations cascading across the world and environmental pollutants making life extremely difficult, cancer diseases surplus and bacteria's and fungi to their dirty work as cures weren't being created by dead doctors and decaying corpses.

Within two years' time, reaching the year 2157, all human activities, life, and genuine existence, were rapidly starting to desist rapidly. By 2187, humans were no longer capable of physical reproduction.

By 2198, active human life of the surface halted completely and died.

Which now leads us to the year of 2205, only a mere seven years later.

 **2205, Undisclosed location, Underground Laboratory.**

The tube shaped refrigerator popped its hatch with a hissing noise. Dumb AI Prototype began running its standard revitalization subroutines as per standard protocols. It first checked the integrity of the cryo pod.

The lab was small, dusty white in decor. The light hum of machinery slowly turned on. Amidst the dust and grime of an elderly monitor long forgotten, a once black screen glowed a soft green. Text flickered on its surface.

 _Structural Integrity of Laboratory:_ 47.9%

 _Coolant Threshold:_ 99.5%

 _Number of Occupants:_ 1

 _Initializing Awakening Process_

The cryotube's hatch opened with a steamy cold hiss. Light blue eyes fought away the haze of sleep. A naked woman stepped out.

She had an olive complexion. Short brown hair and a scar over her left brown eye that made it seem to permanently scowl. Wide waist and impressively large mammary glands indicated healthy genes. She looked well for someone who slept for over 15 years.

"Computer. Status." The woman demanded in a thick American accent.

A light, female mechanical voice replied as the Lab lights slowly flickered to life.

"The Laboratory is within optimal conditions." The voice said crisply. "All preparations have been set and cared for until your return."

The woman nodded. "Excellent." Walking over to her closet, and never pulling out a set of hot clothes kept warm by in-closet heaters. She didn't sling on some clothes, ignored the clean white lab coat, and popped only popped on a pair of clear glasses with red rims. She wouldn't need clothes for what she was about to do. Most would call her crazy, insane. Many would attempt to burn her alive and have her choke on the smoke. Few would actually understand. And none were alive to see her do what would be necessary.

"The planet is in a state of nuclear catastrophe that much I know. You wouldn't have awoken me otherwise. Are there any humans alive up there?"

A brief pause. "Scans estimate casualty rate of 99.4%. Human life is all but extinct." The voice lingered in the stilled air. Though, in truth, all humans but the one or two, not including the woman herself, sealed themselves off.

"I see." The woman nodded as she closed and opened her eye. She took the eyepatch of, and placed "Well, no time like the present right?"

The computer knew what that meant. It did not respond. It just prayed, if that were even possible, that she would survive the process.

The woman in question sat in the middle of the now darkened lab criss-cross style with hands clasped firmly together in front of her buxom chest. Like she was praying. The only light in sight would be the already preset black candles in a perfect circular fashion, humming as it flickered. A pentagram star in white chalk in the middle of the ring of candles. She sat on the bare border of the pentagram star.

She closed her eyes, and the soft whispers of olden, forbidden chanting began. "Aden Ma, keen shaka mu. A festh seffern ka! Lord Mudan!

The pentagram glowed a malicious red, and the air seemed to crackle. The woman's head fell, but her many maintained her posture.

Daemonic summoning was often considered dangerous, but not impossible. Especially if one has a favorable history with said daemon. Favors have been used secretly for generations, often fucking over someone else horribly for the unethical egocentric gains and wants of themselves. Money and sex were only the scraps of the more prominent desires.

But not all such Favors were indescribably crappy. Some, few, but some, have been for the benefits of others, but at the expense of their own well-being.

Like right now.

The penta-star glowed so brightly, and a bright red flash engulfed the room.

"So. It is time?" The demon was massive. He was imposing too. His head was that of a bird, and a lizard. His chest, ape-like in comparison, but without the fur to cover it, and without pecs as well. Really fucking buff too.

"As per our agreement. I've kept you waiting long enough." The woman's naked body leaned back on the cold, lab floor. Her back quivered as she spread her legs wide and open for the Daémon to claim its prize.

Passion and pains soon insued.

The Deal was already made beforehand, leading her to great joy, with questionably not-quite-loathed consequences.

Earth would be consumed in a thick black fog, the clouds would blacken, and crisp red lightning would dance and dash amidst void-filled clouds.

Earth was changing. For better or worst. And when it was all said and done, humanity would be saved. All by one brave woman's efforts.

In exchange for saving Humanity, she would allow herself to become his. His lover. His bride. His child bearer...

Lust moans and roars were to be heard this fateful day. It would be known by all future-humans as only one name. It would be known as:

The Sacrifice.

Translations:

"I call thee, now fulfil the deal he shook upon. I call upon the Fiery Wrath! Lord Mudan!"

 _ **There you go. Not much, but it's something to hook you on for the expectedly much-longer upcoming chapter. No Kodex as there isn't really anything new yet, nor anyone canon wise to actually keep track of anything.**_

 _ **Also! I've been thinking of setting up a currency system once I've establish the story well enough. Like, maybe 4 or 7 chapters in, I'll ask what you guys think of a "Review Currency". Like, maybe, 1 or 2 reviews per chapter or something, depending on how well liked the story is. So that I know what I'm doing right, or what I'm doing wrong. I don't know. It's all ideas for now. Till next time!**_


	2. Other Happenings

**Alright, guess whose back! Me! GalactaIsBest!**

 **First off, let it be said that this Chapter is a side story of a couple doing some cute stuff. A stuffing filler full of cream and love and semi-plot ~. But be warned that it is still a Chapter and that alone is important to remember. Review if you like it or not. And** **Speaking of reviews, let's just make sure you guys understand how this story is going to work.**

 **I will be using reviews as a sort of... currency system. I know I mentioned it first chapter, but by the time I realize I did I already wrote this, so I'm just gonna stick with the lie that I wanted to make sure you didn't forget. You guys may be as forgetful as I am huehue~. The more Reviews, the fast the Chapter. The less, the slower. Make sense?**

 **Also people are nude. But not naked. Hope that makes sense. If not, it will soon enough.~**

 **Oh! Rated M stuff too! Specifically sex. _Leeeeeewd_ sex too. Skip it or don't. Honestly, I know it's not much now, but that's only cause I am still organizing stuff and school. Next Ch. will have more. Okay. ****Enjoy!**

 **Oh wait! Review responses!**

 **ademolix:** **Thanks for finding my story so interesting. Hope you decided to stick around for more darling~!**

 **eye of** **sparta: Your reading it baby~!**

* * *

 _"When I first discovered the people of Highfall, the planet my fleet and I discovered it in the Sol System, I thought I hit fuckin 'pay day. An abundance of slaves just BEGGING to be apart of our lush culture. It was truly beautiful. The planet was perfect. Aside from the black clouds, everything was simply so pure. Their woman looked just like the Asari, except better. Better looks, dynamic appearances, and apparently strong constitution overall. And the men? Heh. They would be amazing workers for our projects. And that right there is the understatement of the century hahahahahha...! I supposed that was my last blunder as acting commander of the 14th Fleet of Khar'Shan."_

* * *

"A-are you sure about this, Kurk? H-here of all p-p-places?" Mena stuttered out in surprise. Kurk was a walking surprise. It's that the reason of surprise wasn't really a complete surprise. Bodily reactions. Suppressed desires. It wasn't-, isn't, a surprise to anyone. Not Mena at least. Maybe Mena was just flustered. Or maybe it was the fact they were about to have sloppy sex right in the middle of an underground tunnel, illuminated only by the clementine glow of the tunnels. Deep orange lights brightened the path for many men and women, whom were almost in the buff as they traveled to their various destinations. The various gazes and faces as they briskly walked by aroused the duo. Some of the young ones actually stopped to watch, if only to quickly continue on their merrily way. It was beyond erotic to the trembling human. Something about being watched was simply intoxicating, and she found herself damned for Kurk being fully aware of her mental weaknesses.

"Mena." the said recipient of affection seemed to shudder when she felt a hot, molten breath against her sensitive ears. "I've wanted this, for and long as I can remember. I'm positively sure, I want this. I may actually just need it~."

Mena bit her lip. Something hot, hotter and steely pressed against her soft buttocks. She knew what it was. She knew what she wanted. It didn't matter others watched. It wasn't taboo, and it was good to have others around while copulating. It displayed confidence.

So, Mena begged for it. Pleaded even. Not with words, but with urges. Bodily signals. Glazed eyes. Hazy breath. Her body obeyed. Her thick thighs twitched. Vaginal liquids streamed down her thighs and legs, begging to be invaded by what they craved. Prima, it was already so close to her-

"Ahmnn!" Kurk let out a cry. And that was all warning Mena had. Her body lurched forward, but outstretched arms readily braced her body against the wall. Kurk's stiff hot cock boiled over with glee. Both hands grabbed Mena's thick ass as soft moans started to escape his throat.

By Aemila's tits, it was fucking _amazing_!

Each thrust! Each drive! Kurk's cock was relentless in its assault, coating itself in the musky scent of Mena's sugar juices. Mena's entire body shook with every thrust, each one deeper and deeper into her womb, squeezing Jen's cock in a desperate hunger for semen.

Kurk took the initiative with a grunt. Snaking an arm around Mena' soft love pillow of a chest. Kurk's hand slowly crept up Mena's neck, crocking her face towards his own.

This time, Mena was in charge, or rather, took charge. With unbridled vigor, her lips crashed into Jen's, whilst her lower body was pushing against Kurk's very stiff cock, trying to squeeze out every drop. Mena was acutely aware of how to pleasure Kurk, and one of the responsibilities of that, is to understand how much time it took for the dam to break. Kurk's hands unconsciously clutched Mena's thick, rocky hips. A guttural roar of ecstasy filled air, a molten white sticky jet spurring forth. There was too much! Floods of semen gushed from the cracks and onto the ground.

Kurk pulled out, slowly and begrudgingly, his vein-pulsing cock still pumping a lot of blood to his meaty spear, just raring to go for round 2, but he had her self-appointed duties to uphold. Mena stood up, hot white cum still slowly leaking out her pounded pussy, and turned around. She then bent over, pushing a small flare of orange hair behind her ear, and cleaned off Kurk's cock with her tongue.

The couple melted into each others body. The traffic of bodies monstrous and human alike had long since passed, leaving only the two of them to bask in the afterglow of the fantastic sex they had. The two spooned facing each other, Kurk using Mena's chest as a pillow.

Today was a wonderful day.

"Oh yeah! I almost forgot!" Mena beamed.

"What?" Kurk asked apprehensively, eyebrow raised in question.

"I'm pregnant!"

* * *

 _"I didn't quite understand it as first. 'Their naked' I thought. 'Their men, their women, their children. All naked. They were so exposed. So vulnerable. I thought I had hit the fucking jackpot when I came across their world. These aliens, these... highfallen. They would sell better than any Asari and have just as much potential as the Turians, if not more. So what did I do? I invaded of course."_

* * *

Kurk cried out in savage joy. Like a child happy about getting a knife for Christmas. The silence that followed stopped whatever words he was to use. The green silence of grass and space said nothing back to him. Kurk scoffed. Kurk wanted a challenge. Kurk was also drunk. His imagination of killing was only buffed by the berry juiced beverage. Hallucinations and imagination made powerful allies afterall. A massive jug of Purple Berry Babe in one hand, and a raised fist in the other. Kurk's eyes were clenched shut briefly; an exhale was produced with a hint of purple mist slipping out of his mouth. A telltale sign of the berried beer working its magic.

As a man, Kurk was attractive. Steeled red irises seemed to pierce the fragility of reality itself. Olive skin tone colored his skin. Muscles seemed to rely on him rather than the other way around, yet he his form was smooth and well constructed. An ample example of who he was.

He was in the buff. He was nude, but not naked. Much like the woman next to him.

His partner, Mena, gave Kurk a dejected deadpan look. "Aemila-dammit Kurk. You're drunk. Again. Then again, why not right? We won't even be deployed until the frontlines have received more supplies and reinforcements to supply us. We're literally the reserves."

Kurk giggled, which sounded frightening with his voice, but he was smart enough to not belch in Mena's face when he did inevitably belch. As more purple fogginess was released from the canal of a mouth Kurk used, Mena guessed about seven more minutes would pass before Jen would be sober. Actually, more like twelve. Fifteen really. She didn't know.

PBB was some strong shit afterall.

Still. Kurk was sober enough to make a sensible reply. Mostly.

"Suu, where are we headin' next? Any word from Aemila?"

"No idea. Maybe back to Hell? The fuckbois down there always seem to have a hard on for our damned lady."

The conversation was kept casual. The plain grasslands seem to sway and dance as they conversed.

Kurk took another swig before replying. "So why Hell?"

Mena sighed. The nude warrior turned her head towards the stars in reverence. "I don't know. I think there's a lot of potential in that world. We have some allies, and the rest want to murder fuck our faces. The daemonic beings there are strong if not a bit limited in their population growth. If we can recruit them under our lady's banner, that would be wonderful. And their resources would be invaluable for our cause. If we can take it of course."

Kurk suppressed a shudder. "The MID is being updated for newer locations in Hell. But we still require mapping certain areas to update our range."

Mena snorted. "True. Heh. Do you think we'll meet the others?" The question didn't require explanation. Kurk knew what she mean't, but asked anyway.

"Other aliens huh?

"Course."

"Probably. You interrogated one didn't you? Didn't he say anything about him having buddies?"

"I was too busy abusing him to be honest. And his language was pathetic. I siphoned his mind though. Found out his kind practiced slavery but that's about it. His body didn't last long in a dimension his body wasn't physically capable of handling. So I suppose, all in all, it's entirely possible he has buddies not of his own kind. Aemila found sound sort of recorder but, in the end,

The answer was satisfactory. Mena yawned and leaned back into the soft grasses, skin tingling to it's touch. The Moon was beautiful when it was full. The beauty is radiated was beyond measure and all encompassing. She let her body soak in it's delicate rays.

The little-less drunk Kurk took a different approach to what he considered beautiful. An appreciative look at his partner's body, his mind racing to stop his mouth from making another lewd remark. As a fledgling of History, he always wondered what made his asshole personality and lewd remarks to refreshing to his lucky. So very much so.

Kurk had to smile as he mimicked her actions, his eyes focused more on the stars instead.

The night was almost as beautiful as Mena herself.

Mena was like a goddess given physical form. Her body wielded muscularity with grace, her body toned with abs and curves in a beautiful symphony of female anatomy.

And then he got to know her. That was just a treasure chest of pleasure and strife.

Kurk's musing were silenced when, without warning, Mena crawled into his field of vision, and straddled him. He thought she wanted passion. That was proven wrong when she leaned forward and slid off his chest to the side. His hand snuggling on her stomach. A life grew there. There creation. Their child.

Next thing, they were spooning. Face to face. Their breaths were shallow. And then they kissed, the Moon seemingly approving of their love as it bathed the couple in light.

Truly, it was a beautiful night.

 _"I cannot fathom the shame I have brought with the Hegemony. My ships were useless. My men were useless. Our patriotism was laughable tenable. If anyone finds this recording, I implore you, please. Please. Do not approach this planet._ _This is Fleet Admiral Ma'tuk Fre'don of the Batarian Hegemony, signing off._ _"_

* * *

 **Yeah, that's it my loves~. I do hope you found this Ch. to be quite lovely. Be sure to send me all those beautiful Reviews and don't be shy to point out any faults. Until next time~**


	3. Other Catgirls

_**To be fair, I was listening to Mad Hatter while writing this earlier.**_

 _ **Damn. Over a WHOLE DAMN MONTH?! Goodness! SO SORRY for the late upload loves. Promise to update sooner than this. Honest! But if I don't, I don't. Also, the Review Currency still stands. But from now on, I'll be serious about it my darlings.~**_

 _ **I posted this Chapter as a filler more than anything to assure you guys, and myself, the following. The few things to note is that a) I won't abandon this lovely idea of mine b) Some of what Mass Effect verse stuff may not be one-hundred percent accurate and I'm sorry about that and finally c) I thank you SO MUCH for the support guys! I really appreciate it! Thank you so much loves~! The fact that I get visitors ranging in the double digits made me beyond proud. That being said, I am far too lazy to proofread so please feel free to call me out on any confusions and/or if you have any questions. Using Reviews of course. Ya know. (Just let me get popular dammit-) Or feel free to send me private messages.**_

 _ **Oh! And I've had a sudden change of plans in terms of Humanity. Nothing radical I promise You'll see. Enjoy!**_

 _ **Now onward to the reviews!**_

 _ **Sechs:**_ _ **Aaah, kind of but not necessarily. I do hope this Chapter answer your question darling~**_

 _ **Geasszero:**_ _ **Well, you finally see what happened. Partly. Huehue~**_

* * *

" _I think it's a great thing. Nudity I mean. Be proud of your body. Who cares what others say or think? They're just jelly you're so fuckin' fabulous! Everyone is sexy as fuck. Especially Aemila. I'd bang Aemila. Hard. But anyway, I think it's up to them to realize they're sexy. Doncha' think? And huh… I love cookies."_

-Ryu Crossheart

* * *

The Batarians, after suffering the shame and militaristic morale of losing an Admiral to a single unventured planet with nothing more than a warning, occupied the Charon Relay and applied a blockage of frigates and dreadnoughts around the perimeter. Usually the Council's law enforcement race, the Turians, would question this act, it was soothed over by ball buttering words and relentless procrastination. The Second Krogan Rebellion, led by Warlord Urnot Wrex, kept the Turian military very busy and the Batarians were all too eager to "assist" the Council with this gap in their defenses. The politics and economical backings would be potent if the slavers played their cards right. The Council, for there part, questioned the blockade, or would have anyway, but since the Batarian Hegemony is independent, the details they gave were small and the need for specifics were not a requirement. Though trust was a weapon, not a guarantee. The Turians took the "war" as the call for amping up the production of fighters, bombers, ships, and anything that could be boosted.

However, the Batarians were at a stagnant standstill. Slave rebellions were on the rise and with the Council winning the small war with the Krogan due to attrition and power, the Hegemony wouldn't be needed to fill the gap the Turians were patching up. But the rebellions were stubborn. That meant even more money was needed to blockade the Charon Relay to keep the Turians, Salarians, and Asari all happy and dandy. All in all, the economy was strained. Heavily so.

So, a choice had to be made. The Rebellions were losing momentum, yes, but needed to be quelled before things got beyond irreparable. The smart thing to do was to of course pull back the blockading ships from the Charon Relay to curb the growing Rebellions but not to many so that whatever force that completely destroyed Admiral Fre'don's fleet will not come through the Relay. The only survivors of a damaged frigate returned with very dead Batarians on-board and only dead Batarians. The ships records heralded no information as if they've been wiped. It was unsettling, and the Hegemony feared that they may have actually discovered something far worse than the Rachni. No. The Rebellions would be quelled with additional troops. But the Relay Blockade stays.

With the Batarians being a bit preoccupied with unusually high slave rebellions, and tid bits of the Krogan Army raiding their infrastructure and supply routes to fuel their own war versus the Council races, they were hard pressed to send any ships anyway. Until the Rebelling slaves and Council races neuter the Krogan once again, the ships stay. The Batarian Hegemony, though shaken, shall perish the storm and remind the greater galaxy why they were the superior race.

It wouldn't be until the lastness of realization arrived upon the greater galaxy than the culprit of such sudden violence and uprisings would be traced to the Highfallen species.

It wasn't until later that their own ignorance came to foil their grandeur of glory for all to laugh at.

* * *

 **Meanwhile...**

On the planet of Eden, the Temple of Qatar on was under threat by a mostly unforeseen threat. So far off from the mainstay of the war, the Temple was lightly defended and heralded little strategic value above being a symbol of power, a sort of trophy to show off the power of The Hegemony to those who would defy them, as well as serve as a resource outpost. At least, that's how things were planned out anyway. In only the span of mere months, Eden became the second most heavily defended planet in Hegemony space.

Freed Shawbrew, on his patrol with fellow officer Pardan, saw the calm night skies of Eden bleed something that wasn't meant to infest her orbit. Metal and flame sung as tattered hulls and dusted metal from Batarian ships fell from the sky. Them came the pods of red mist and power. Which would mean the lack of reinforcements. It would also explain the utter lack of contact from command too. Without a fleet, no matter how pitiful it's size, to vector the signal of command from Karshan in fear of it being intercepted by the Rebels, they were essentially cut off from the rest of Hegemony space. Routine checkups would be weekly, but if Freed was correct about who was attacking Eden, they wouldn't last a single rotation. Alarms blared an eye siren and anti-air emplacements unloaded their barrage of accelerated ordinance at pods that looked like rocks that fell into a color galore of rainbow and sparkles. It was unnatural in far too many ways for the Hegemony soldier to admit to himself.

What made Eden such a prime target for an invasion fleet was it's location. It was damn near immaculate as a beachhead for a galaxy, spanning war. In the grain scheme of things, while a galaxy was small, adding many smaller variables together suddenly became a rather large perspective. But alas, small things first.

"Freed!" His partner hollered. "We need to move! Let's get back to the base and let the Sarge know. Let's move!" And move they did. While Freed himself was an average build, Pardan was a brute of a Batarian. He honestly wondered if he was just a Krogan in Batarian skin at times. The two had their differences regarding slavery, sure, both agreed the Hegemony was a well-rounded government. And that meant getting back to base.

Radio chatter sparked like wildfire. Freed had his sent to all Batarian frequencies encase of orders. His preparation served him well.

"Freed! Pardan! Come in, over!" The sound was garbled at best. Jammers were possibly in use.

"Sarge!" Freed hollered. The roaring of anti-air cannons firing into an enemy he couldn't see beyond Eden's atmosphere made shouting a necessity. "We're to clicks from base Sarge! We there in five!"

The next words Sarge spoke shook him to his core. "Belay that private! Base is gone! One of those... things pods took it out. Rondevu at Hang's Point! We need to defend the Eastern AA Mainframe! I'll talk to you there. Sarge out!"

The lack of eerie silence was smothering everything but the thoughts of Freed's head.

Hang's Point was the literal last line of defense. A Fortress really. As first, with dozens of redder than red pods dropping whatever-the-fuck into Eden districts, the sounds of gunfire and screams was prominent. And only the when the insistent chatter of her brothers and sisters across the radio cease did the Hegemony soldier realize something was wrong. As the two sprinted down an alley way for faster arrival time, Pardan finally spoke.

"Damn it all." The big man cursed. His voice was deep and mighty. "The Hegemony were fools."

Freed grimaced. Patriotically callings suggested heresy. But his mind agreed. The Hegemony were fools. For now, all he could do was pray. Pray it wasn't too late.

"Let's go."

* * *

 **Just beyond the borders of Earth's atmosphere _, Hegemony's Guard_**

Kay and her fellow Spawned had an objective. Her and the others of her ilk boarded the crumbling Batarian ship in force for the sole purpose of capturing the Batarian Dreadnought _Hegemony's Guard_ databanks. But to do that, they worked on clearing the path for their Lady Ryu. Kayla didn't ask what would happen when she finished her job. Nor did she care. Killing was her purpose. She was content with that.

It was a blitz. Pods weaved through the void of space, dodging inconsequential debris before harshly kissing the starboard of the dying vessel with penetrating claws. The Spawned swiftly flooded the ship as more pods boarded the vacuum-kissing burning dreadnought. The Batarians fought the inevitable as _Hegemony's Guard_ was quite overrun.

The lack of substance was amusing to the feminine appearing Spawn with cat ears. Butch as they were, there feminine behavioral programming, and feminine appearances, meant they had no quarrel with talking about other things while fighting the fragile Batarians. They marched through a hail of mass accelerator rounds from Batarians. They marched forward as they fired blazes of super-compressed hot-pink-laser shit at the Batarians from their all encompassing hand-cannons. Ryu assured her that she and her fellows would be impervious to the small arms fire of the Batarians and so far, Ryu's words bore truth. Pink lasers and mass accelerated bullets danced down the bloodied corridors. Less by less, the bullets were soon losing. Drowning in a sea of pink. An attritional victory was hers and her girls alone. It was ensured. Only twenty slave lovers remained. Fifteen. Now twelve. Then ten. Nine. There were eight. They broke, bravery pissing on them as they fled haphazardly.

Seven escaped. Thirteen were dead now, holes of blistering heat smoking off their charred corpses. The last Batarian gurgled hot blood souped from scorched organs and would have suffered for their resistance to death had Kay not "double tapped" his body. Just to be sure. No survivors was the secondary priority after all.

The ruined corridors meant the Batarians had nowhere to go, however. The bridge was their final hope and soon to be final resting fear of demise and death surged with each step, the mass of her and herself marching. The Batarians were smart in their retreat, stalling Kay and the girls advance enough to wield the doors of the bridge shut.

The Batarians have sealed off the bridge. It was obvious for those who saw, but the ones yet to board the ship now knew too. Kay stepped forward, her palm planted on the damaged metal. Kay scowled, stepped four steps back, and fired a single bolt of pink at the door. It was not damaged heavily, but the shot served. Kay shot again. Again, and again. The rest joined in. A hail of pink assaulted the door. It's frame stood for some seconds, but anything melts in heated up enough. Especially metal.

After fifteen seconds, the door started to collapse into itself, two walls of solid metal joining melted, but the catgirl barrage continued. The surviving Batarians hid behind anything they could, the suppression of pinkness qwelling any thoughts of return fire.

Eventually, the Fallen resumed their march into the bridge, unhindered. Spreading out, Kay found only one surviving Batarian. His decorated attire and deepened forehead cartilage displayed him a leader. The Captain of what used to be _Hegemony's Guard_ no doubt.

Two of the girls lazily, but effectively, subdued him by his arms with one on either side. The laser through his arm and upper left shoulder also cauterizing the wound. He grunted as he was ironically a prisoner in his own bridge. Kayla smiled. Ryu would enjoy him nicely.

 **Well that;s all folks. Hopefully you all won't be too upset with me and my chronic procrastination. My goal is to write one of the most orginal, most potent ME stories to date and I intend to do so. Just give me time loves~.**

 **Until next time, Ciao~!**


	4. Other Plans

_**I am definitely one-hundred percent open to BETA READERS right now. Cause I got none. So, you know, volunteers would be good. PP me for details. Thanks~!**_

* * *

 **On the burning surface of Eden,** _ **Hang's Point...**_

It wasn't going to stop. He realized this long before the fangs of death loomed over him, yes, but he had held onto the vain hope that perhaps the angel of mercy would ward that which claimed all life just a little longer, just a little longer for him to reflect him life's choice. Just a little longer before death finally won the race.

Such convenience was not something he should have expected. Hang's Point lasted for just over thirty-two hours. After the first twelve, their automated weaponry ceased functionality and barrels of flak and protection quit their very important jobs. That only allowed more of those red comets to blemish Eden's once beautiful surface.

He turned. Far as his eyes could see, his brothers and sisters fired bullets accelerated by technology and power. Their battle cries in the face of the unending doom that approached was brave. He wished he had even that going for him.

The Batarian soldier already lost his best big brute of a friend. A settled sorrow glimmered in his eyes at his lost for a moment, but the barrage of guns barking reminded him of a fight he desperately refused to let crush his will.

Freed was at least thankful for the somewhat outdated trench warfare tactics that managed to bless his life with prolonged longevity. But the Krogan-enduring vixens were damn accurate, the cover that protected their lower bodies worthless if their flood of pink lasers easily bypassed their shielding and splattered the brain matter inside strong Batarian skulls.

Freed didn't know how many started off, eager to repel the invaders, but ten remained loyal Hegemony soldiers remained standing, including himself. The flurry of pink death and determined bullets swung at every turn, his military training reminding him of the female Batarian and her heavy turret pumping accelerated death that barely kept them alive, the harsh barking of the gun impacting the vixens with enough force to actually make them hurt and stumble, but he knew it wasn't good enough when some just got right back up. He was also aware it was the source of firepower keeping him, and his soon-to-be-dead teammates, from having their position overrun.

That comfort ended awfully quick when a new foe entered the fray. If the Asari-like vixens were the slimmed down Krogan, these newer beast were the stronger, more bestial version of Elcors. Almost like male Asari, they were twice the thrice size of Krogan and bore enough spikes on their limbs to make a fully grown Thresher Maw hesitate. The resemblance to the Rachni had his mind screech in fear, but he couldn't figure why. Their faces had an almost familial resemblance to the smaller ones, but they were more likely the byproduct of Geth and Krogan mating gone wrong. It was unsettling. It shouldn't be possible. It barely registered the smaller, female-looking ones seemed to be happier with their presence, let own an noticeable significant improvement in their accuracy.

Freed choked. They were insectoid. Sickly, abominations of death not unlike the abominations that threatened the Citadel Council not too long ago. But they were different. They leaped and fluttered over their smaller, battle walking lesser such grace. Like some overly grown older brother who took satisfaction in showing off to his little sister Surfing the wave of womanly bodies with far too much ease than their hulking mass should have been capable of.

Far too close to ignore, he screamed desperately at the gunner to open fire over the approaching. Of course, she couldn't hear him. Not over the sounds of her turret and their lasers pouring onto them relentlessly.

It was too late. The gunner barely had been booked time to scream, before one laser sunk into her skull and melted the softness that once controlled her corpse. The nice ten strong were bullied to only two. Freed and some grunt.

The grunt died not long after. Ammo expended and wounds too severe to overcome. A lucky laser hit his gut, forcing him to become gravity bitch. He fell onto the body littered trench. Pondering his end. Death finally caught up huh? About time.

He was alone. Freed knew his life was over. He felt just so… tired. Life long memories flashed by in a blur. The world around him silenced, his body unwilling to act, only sleep. To rest at last. As unloving life treated him, he drifted from consciousness into a bliss he hoped was death, wondering if his big battle buddy would be in heaven waiting for him.

* * *

 _ **Hell**_

Xyn was glad to see the untamed superstitions that filled humanities religious beliefs, most of them anyway, proved to bare no fruit to the truth of reality.

Hell was an amazing place! Sure it was infested with volcanoes of violence and omnipotent sin was damn near a must, but the place had it's charms Xyn couldn't help but appreciate.

It was a space-sized interdeminsional plane of existence where anyone could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted so long as they fell in accordance with the Lords and Ladies and other superior denizens of the stat hierarchy whose gender identities were questionable at best. The similarity between that of medieval Kingdoms and their feudal landlords that controlled certain landscapes and Hell's hierarchy was something not to be ignored.

Hell was also filled with a myriad of sub-species. Demons were spawned at rates not unlike bacterias. This is where the beauty of Hell came in. Xyn was not too privy to the close winded details (yet) of daemonic creation, but understood the concept well enough.

Hell was like a big ol' bowl of soup. Condensed and compressed ethereal energies wondered about, clashing and dashing here and there, but never actually did much unless a concentration of of different elements came together. Depending on the quality and quantity of demon, the created spawn of Hell could range from little more from fly-sized pieces of abomination to monstrous creatures capable of interplanetary devastation. Hell by itself produced demons capable of self-generation. Incorporeal mass and desires from higher tier daemonic spirits formed newer and more powerful demons just from the residual waste juice alone. And each Intelligent demons have potent enough souls that herald impressive energy pools, pools vast enough that many have created mini-versions of themselves. It was Xyn's dream to create herself in a technical smaller extent someday. Many humans have joked how they aren't too different from the same caste that befall upon Virtual and Artificial intelligence in that regard. Xyn found herself agreeing.

On the subject or Lords and Ladies, anyone with basic smarts can achieve the title so the titles was a mute point of view than it was an aesthetic pleaser. It was the name, notthe title, than counted.

What Xyn loved the most was the absolute and utter lack of _necessity_ that was plagued most every single collation of intelligent species within reality. Hell followed a loosely vague prospect concerning three stats: Power Respect. It was more of a unwritten suggestion than anything else, one that most all did well to keep in mind. The details were prodigiously basic. Power was a bareback representation of an individual prowess, an assessment of ones own strengths and weaknesses while Respect was the general downpour of how other daemonic denizens viewed an individual. Nobody could skip anywhere high enough to make an impact within the vastness of Hell without acquiring both. Lord Mudan commanded the most out of both these two currency resources in that regard so it would not be wrong to claim him as a "ruler" even if that is wholesomely untrue.

Regardless, power and respect won the day every-time.

Xyn saw information as a hybrid factor in this case. Her unique position as a communication officer and high end mercenary gained her many friends and much gain. Baring in mind that sex was on a literal different level in a piece of space not limited with the trivial shackles of reality, it was easy get lost in the orgy sea of satisfaction and pleasure and many were okay with this. It was the more ambitious megalomaniacal saucy boys and girls Xyn made note to be wary off. They could be a hindrance or asset in due time. Definitely something to look out for.

Xyn's mind calculated responses and reactions before the thoughts passed the trails of becoming sub thought. It was a curious mind game the chief communications officer enslaved herself into enjoying. Ultimately, the game was irrelevant but it was the satisfaction of being correct that brought the self-proclaimed sex demoness and ex-human joy. She wished she knew these blessings when her life was full of humanness.

The room she labored in was her bedroom, if it could be called such. The usual decor was present and matched a semblance of normalcy, yes, but the entire room was all red. Dark reddened metals jutted from specific angles and frames that made it quite a sight indeed. The only non-metallic aspect was the door, an honest to goodness mouth if nothing else that was currently closed at the moment.

Thanking the many sub-groups of demons was something the succubus made a mental reminder of. Many a little sucky-suck action if she was frisky enough. A bonus but not necessary in the grand scheme of things. Her hands were most pleased at the way her fingers danced upon the holographic red keypad with unbridled ease, the single monitor that displayed a sea of digits and images her sole attention. Omnitools excavated from Batarian husks were just so fun to play with at times.

The red flesh that served as the door to her room opened with a squelch. Hence entered Zarkatha. The chattiest combat demon Xyn had the relative misfortune of befriending. Her fingers never halted, but she leaned her head in acknowledgement to the other female's presence. The ex holy servant of God attired an all encompassing black latex that exposed most of her soft chest pillows, stopping just short of her nipple reveal. Black eagle wings displayed on her back, folded nice and neat for both comfort and allure. They glowed with mild power that cautioned it unwise to ignore.

"What do you think?" Zarkatha asked as she took a hefty dive onto the succubus' King sized bed. The resounding bounce was noted by the black feathered death bringer.

"Of?" Xyn questioned, her eyes glued to the monitor.

"The new addition to our ranks. The Asari girl Lady Ryu brought in." Zarkatha elaborated. Xyn found her British accented voice to be quite adorable.

Lady Ryu was a nut-job in that best way possible. Schizophrenic beyond all repair too. Lady Ryu always kept others guessing. Something Xyn Respected.

"She's quiet." Xyn replied.

"She's hot." Ah. So that was her game.

"Cute. Have you seen the goods?" The question carried a peaked curiosity in it.

Zarka sighed dejectedly. "No..." She sounded disappointed. Xyn's smiled at her part-time lovers apparent dismay.

"Why not ask her out then?" Xyn suggested. Hell was a literal endless expanse of ludicrousness and violence, but the other dimensions weren't so rabid.

"No, way to prudish. Plus he's shy. I need something… a bit more subtle." Zarka said. Her arm laid over her eyes. "Buuuuu, what do I do Xyn? I really want to make this work." Zarka's voice drawled out the 'o'. Too cute for the communications specialist to not adore. A flash on her monitor sucked in her slit irises, a smile that creeped out a great many crawled into view.

Xyn turned from her monitor, the swivel chair obeying her momentum. Zarka got a bit nervous at the suddenness and the smile. Both were just off putting.

"What?" Zarkatha questioned, not wanting to know.

"I do believe I can help you with your… situation, provided you help me in return."

Oh shit.

"What, exactly, do you need help with." It's time like these she wished she spent more times into mind games than her mercenary friend did.

"I need you to sleep with someone."

Zarka blinked. Surely Xyn was more than capable of seduction. Why her? Something was up.

"Why me?" Zarka asked, eyes narrowed.

"He's a high level Power-demon and a very close ally to Lord Mudan. I... don't like him. His need to display dominance his crude." Xyn explained. "But he is fair. And he is too much a slave to his lust for anything long term. Just your type, am I right?"

Zarka mentally snarled at the unbelievably accurate deduction. "What do I get out of it?" She knew having a smart-ass bitch like Xyn owe her had its merit.

It took a while for the winged lady to realize Xyn stopped typing.

"I'll owe you a single favor and you get to obtain yet another fuck-buddy with benefits. Your power and respect grows and I get my rockers off. Just be sure to mention my name, k?" Xyn spoke smoothly. "A fair deal is it not?"

Zarka accepted, but somewhere deep down, she knew that she got the worst end of the deal not matter how nice it sounded.

* * *

"H-h-hey there. You awake?"

His senses were dulled, like he was in a surreal dream. Where was he? Who was that voice? He wasn't sure if he responded, but the voice continued on.

"Ugh, he's to ugly. Why to I gotta waste my time with this piece of trash? Need help waking up or something?" He made what felt like a scowl. He held vehement disdain for the wake he addressed him, as if he were nothing more than a child in need of tenderly care.

"Oh! I know! Let's give him some encouragement!" He was confused. This voice sounded chipper. Were there more than one person? It sounded like the exact same voice just with different pitches.

Then came the pain.

The moment his consciousness just barely bared fruit through the physical embodiment he dubbed a body, the air he breathed to stay alive, however ironic the term, burnt him internally. His throat cried in a shrill scream in his mind as it was forced to draw breathe upon such foul fumes. He felt much pain.

"Stop." Just like that. It ended as quickly as it arrived. An unwelcomed quickie of unpleasant agony made him focus on his immediate surroundings, and the cause of his anguish. It didn't help that he had now just some to the realization that he was utterly bare of all clothes and bare in the nude.

She, he was certain if was a female from the base of the voice, booned him with a moments respite. His eyes finally opened and it frightened him that he had no recollection of them ever being closed. His soldiering days kicked in, as he assessed the room. It was unusually lavage for an interrogation room, yet the two guards at the door and the absolute restriction of movement confirmed his suspicions to be a room for forcing submission and information. A very pathetic side of him wondered why the Hegemony didn't have such nice torture rooms. He violently murdered these thoughts.

The voice was identified. The being before him was very much like an Asari, much like the feline females that slaughtered his crew. She wore no clothing of any kind, yet she had no discernible nipples or genitalia to protect in the first place. Yet he was limited to just her upper body so he couldn't make assumptions. He could hop, right? He mentally sneered. Nothing wrong with a little hope. His excitement caused his little slave between his thighs to twitch but thankfully the table obstructed her view. Her legs crossed over the other, between them a small wooden table. Immaculately clean. She had odd, lengthily purple fur growing from her head. Utterly alien and similar at the same time. What got him was her expression. It carried an air of utter pessimistic boredom. A voicing dripping with an odd accent that only solidified her feelings. A little book in her palm sat opened, equally purple eyes scanning it's content with a not very impressed glance.

"Braak Kulem of the Batarian Hegemony. Captain Braak Kulem of the Hegemony Dreadnought _Hegemony's Guard._ Oh I already said that, why the fuck did I repeat myself?" His growing resentment towards this woman only grew when she spoke so... casually to him. She hadn't even looked at him since he'd been agonized into focus. She continued despite his best glare. "A father of three, and holds over 73 personal slaves. Lives in a mansion too. A fit bastard just over 190 of muscle. But a man slut with over 9 wives?! Christ dude. What, one vagina didn't get the dick hard enough or something?" She rambled on, half mocking half condensating. He didn't need to hear his entire life story and he didn't want to either.

Braak brewed a distinct hatred for this bitch in front of him. She opened her mouth to read more, but stopped when she finally looked at him. Glowing violet orbs gazed into his black pits. A chill ran down his spine. That was not the look of an unamused person. That was the cunning smile of a predator who just realized it's prey made a very deadly mistake. Braak's jaws parted for words to make way, but all that was heard was the raw bleeding cry of pain that only the act of a great person could make go away.

Little did the the former Captain know, he was in the humble loving care of Lady Ryu. Daemon masochists and all round pain-bringer to all. Hence her nickname:

Lady Ryu the Insane.

* * *

 _ **Well loves, I do try to keep my promises. I did probably make some errors in spelling rushing to pump this out, but I do believe this will suffice.**_ _ **Of course, I suppose I gotta delete the April Fools ch. cause that's just a waste. Forgive any spelling errors, as I was in a bit of a rush to transfer everything to this. If you have any questions, PP or review. School break is coming soon to hopefully I can work this more frequently then. It is STILL my overriding goal and prime directive to make this thee most unique MS story out there and I intend to do so. Till' next time loves~!**_


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